


Where Words Fail Music Speaks

by ShadesOfShame



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Music, Playlist, but only a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadesOfShame/pseuds/ShadesOfShame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's no secret the Sherlock loves classical music and loathes modern music, but Sherlock has a secret... playlist that is. When John is pointed in the direction of that playlist, he realizes that Sherlock cares for him more that he thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Doubt that Fills Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I have actually made both the playlists that will be mentioned in this story, but I'm not going to post them until I post the chapter with the songs actually in it, wouldn't do to spoil it! ;)
> 
> Not beta'd or brit picked so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I don't own the characters, that honor goes to ACD and Moftiss, just the ideas that have been swimming in my head screaming to get out!

The familiar black car pulled up as he was walking home from the surgery. He thought about ignoring it, but refusing the British Government usually didn’t go over well. He sighed as the door opened and then he climbed in.

“Good afternoon John,” Mycroft said in his usual detached affectation.

“Right… What is it now?” John asked, forgoing pleasantries. Mycroft pursed his lips but let the brusqueness slide. John was one of the few people Mycroft deigned to like, a lot of that having to do with John’s no-nonsense way of handling things including Mycroft’s brother.

“You are aware of my brother’s love of music, yes?” inquired Mycroft.

“Of course, though when he’s screeching that bloody violin at 3am I sometimes wonder if love is the right word,” chuckled John.

“Yes, well…” Mycroft shrugged. They were both all too familiar with Sherlock’s middle-of-the-night, or anytime, strops. “Did you know that he has a Spotify account?” continued Mycroft.

“Considering he leaves it open on my laptop all the time, yes. I didn’t know that much classical music even existed! Maybe he’d be less of a git if he listened to some good pop or rock tunes,” John mused.

“Ahh, then you don’t know about _that_ playlist,” Mycroft said.

“Uhh… I guess not?” John replied, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“My brother has been cultivating a rather interesting playlist for a number of years now. Since shortly after he met you, actually,”

“Ok… Do you think it has something to do with his drug use or something? Do you want me to watch him closer?” John went into soldier/doctor mode, because when it has to do with Mycroft inquiring about Sherlock, that’s generally what he has to do.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” placated Mycroft, but he said no more, much to John’s frustration.

“Then what does this have to do with me, Mycroft?” John asked quite crossly. “I had a long day and all I want to do is go home, have a nice bath and a cuppa then go to bed and I can’t do that until you get to the point!” groused John, nearly yelling by the end.

“I know how you feel about my brother. I also know that you won’t say anything because you believe he is incapable of that kind of sentiment and you also don’t want to risk your friendship…” Mycroft started to explain, causing John to blush.

“Bloody hell! Between the two of you I have no secrets, do I? That’s quite annoying!” John hollered.

“John, please…” pleaded Mycroft, uncharacteristically soft for the usually dour man. John slumped back into the seat and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry. Please continue,” John said with as much patience as he could muster.

“Despite what my brother says, I do care about him and his happiness. He cares for you, more than you think, but when it comes to you, he’s fairly blind. He can’t see what’s right in front of him so he’s said nothing. So to answer your question, yes, you do have a secret still,” Mycroft finished.

“Said nothing about what?” john inquired, still confused.

“The next time he leaves his Spotify open on your computer, look at the playlist entitled “Bach’s Best” and give it a good think,” Mycroft said, with a slight upturn of his mouth, almost a grin.

“Uh, yeah, alright…” John sputtered.

“I do believe you wanted a bath and a cuppa… off you go,” Mycroft dismissed John, who hadn’t realized they’d arrived at Baker St. He got out and watched as the car drove out of sight.

John rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes as he stood in front of 221B, trying to make sense of what just happened. He thought he had done a pretty good job of masking his feelings for Sherlock. He always figured Sherlock knew but didn’t feel the same and never said anything to save John the embarrassment and let down. It honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise that Mycroft knew, he was the smart Holmes brother, as he so often pointed out.

John was puzzled, though. What did Mycroft mean that Sherlock cares for John more than John thinks? Hell, that could mean dozens of things the way Mycroft talks circles around everything. John sighed again. The Holmes brothers were going to be the death of him! With the decision made to do nothing until he further investigated this playlist thing, John squared his shoulders, and with a slight nod of his head, entered the flat… straight into complete pandemonium.


	2. You Finally Find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's playlist makes it's debut in this chapter! See notes at the end of the chapter for the link to the playlist!

Sherlock had apparently gotten a call from Lestrade right after John had left for work that morning. He had spent the morning going through old case files looking for some link he just knew existed but couldn’t quite connect. The result was the flat looking like a tornado had blown through. John found Sherlock lying on the couch, on top of scattered papers and books, fingers steepled under his chin. John had no more set foot in the sitting room when Sherlock leapt up, grabbing his Belstaff and scarf and calling for John to follow. John tried to protest, but Sherlock was already out the door hailing a cab. The bath, cuppa, and playlist were all but forgotten as John ran out the flat, barely making it into the cab before it drove away. 

The case was a long one, involving not one but two trips to Wales and a weeks worth of interrogations, foot chases, and exasperated looks from Lestrade before it was finally wrapped up. John was forced to call off at the surgery that whole week so he spent the following week doing double shifts to make it up to his fellow doctors that had covered for him. The case had been officially wrapped for two weeks before the playlist entered John’s thoughts again.

Sherlock had been particularly stroppy during the case and afterwards, dropping into his ‘bored’ state of being quicker than usual. He ignored John a majority of the time and was quite short when he did decide to open his mouth. It finally dawned on John that Sherlock probably figured out that Mycroft had ‘kidnapped’ John again. If that was the case, then Sherlock probably also knew what John and Mycroft had discussed. John was now fairly certain that he would never know what this whole playlist thing was about, not if Sherlock was this bothered by just knowing it had been discussed.

That night, Sherlock was particularly Sherlocky; sullen, stroppy, and when he wasn’t calling John an idiot he was ignoring him. John took it all in stride like usual, and wasn’t at all surprised when he heard the door to the flat slam shut as he got out of the shower. It also didn’t surprise him to see his laptop open on the desk as Sherlock was forever using John’s laptop when he was too lazy to walk the few feet to get his own. What did surprise John was what had been left on the screen of his laptop. Spotify was open and logged into Sherlock’s account and the playlist titled “Bach’s Best” was pulled up.

Glancing over the list of songs told John that “Bach’s Best” was, in reality, an amalgamation of love songs of varying types. So completely out of character it was for Sherlock, John wasn’t sure what to think. Mycroft must be wrong; it had to be for a case. Some of the artists represented on the list were ones that Sherlock teased John for listening to, there was no way he was listening to those songs for the fun of it.

John got out his phone and shot off a text to Mycroft.

J- What are you on about?  
M- Good evening to you as well, Dr. Watson.  
J- Cut the crap. Why would you want me to think this playlist that very clearly must do with a case is something other than that?  
J- I didn’t even know you had him on a case to begin with!  
M- My brother is not currently working a case for me.  
J- What the hell is this playlist, then? Sherlock certainly didn’t make it for himself.  
M- You are partially correct. In a way, it is not for himself.  
J- Bloody hell! Why do you have to be so damn cryptic?!  
M- My apologies.  
J- So…..??  
M- As much as my brother likes to call you an idiot, we all know you are anything but. Take a good look at the playlist, John, pay attention to the dates, and remember what I said last time we discussed this.  
J- Remember what?  
M- I must go, John, I am late for a meeting.  
J- Like hell you are!  
M- I do hope things work out. You are good for my brother and I have grown rather fond of you, Dr. Watson.  
J- What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

John waited a few minutes but got no reply. Frustrated, he threw his phone on the couch and went in the kitchen to turn on the kettle. After his tea was made he sat in his chair running through everything Mycroft had said.

‘He cares for you, more than you think’, ‘when it comes to you, he is fairly blind’.

Could it be that Sherlock actually had feelings for John? John shook his head, clearing the thought. Sherlock doesn’t ‘feel’ like that, he loathes sentiment. John took a deep breath and went back over to his laptop. He drained the rest of his tea before taking another deep breath and maximizing the Spotify window.

Looking through the songs again, he did notice a pattern. The songs were grouped into what could be considered moods. They started off almost shy then sweet then almost desperate before turning sad again followed by supportive and finally determined. It’s almost a timeline: the first meeting of two people and there’s an interest turning into more, then something happens to maybe separate them, then they are back together but something has changed and then it changes back… John gasps… ‘Pay attention to the dates’ Mycroft had said. Song 5 and 6, the desperate love song followed by the sad love song indicating they might have been separated… There’s a two year gap in the added dates… And then he sees it, the song that will end up being the catalyst for so many things, and a tear rolls down John’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Sherlock's playlist! If you can see the dates, obviously they aren't the ones referenced in the story because I just made the playlist in the last couple of months and up until yesterday I was still adding songs, deleting songs, and messing with the order. Just ignore dates and use your imagination! :D 
> 
>  
> 
> Spotify playlist: [Bach's Best](https://play.spotify.com/user/1289905550/playlist/1LV1GgQLUiRi8nhhptXNRK)
> 
>    
> If that link doesn't work (it's not working on my computer for some reason) try [my spotify profile](https://play.spotify.com/user/1289905550)  
> just click on the playlist called Bach's Best (Sherlock's Theme) :)
> 
> Alternatively, you can also check out the playlist on YouTube if you don't have/want a spotify account. [YouTube Bach's Best](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrFsrBunTUUaZkESgA7JftBuRlvKrCN-M)
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!


	3. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally starting to make sense and John's playlist (sort of) makes it's debut! Link to playlist in the notes at the bottom!

John Watson is a fool. He thought he had his feelings in check. He thought he’d be fine just being allowed in Sherlock’s life in some capacity. He thought friends would be enough. And it was, until now. Seeing _that_ song added on _that_ day, shatters the glass house of delusion he had been living in. 

John Watson is irrevocably in love with Sherlock Holmes.

John is well past friends being enough. Just friends is no longer enough and never will be. John hopes with all his being that he and Mycroft are right about what this playlist means.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

John very distinctly remembers the day he moved back in to 221B. He had spent the week after Mary left (with the baby that wasn’t his) sitting in their flat trying to sort through his feelings, drinking, packing up the stuff he wanted to keep, and drinking some more. He walked away from the flat with a single holdall and a whole lot of confusion.

John had ignored any and all calls, texts, and would-be visitors, speaking to no one the entire week. When Sherlock opened the door and saw John standing there with his small bag and rain dripping from every inch of his body, he opened his mouth to speak but John stopped him with a small shake of his head. Sherlock nodded, turned and headed up the stairs with John slowly following behind.

John paused in the doorway to the sitting room and took a look around. Sherlock had walked to the window and was gazing out through the dirty glass, his back to John. The place looked the same as it always had, a bit of a chaotic mess, but something was different. Hell, he’d been there not two weeks before helping on a case, it shouldn’t look or feel any different, but it did. He felt terrible thinking it, considering the circumstances, but it felt like he had finally come home, like he’d been away for years.

John dropped his holdall and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was vaguely aware that Sherlock had moved from his spot next to the window, stepping a few feet closer to him. Suddenly, it was all too much. Too much grief, too much sadness, too much joy, too much confusion, too much of everything. He looked up to see Sherlock stepping carefully towards him, a mixture of concern and something else he couldn’t decipher on his angular face. Whatever it was he saw in those blue-green eyes put him over the edge, and John let out a guttural cry and collapsed to his knees, hands covering his face.

A few seconds later, much to John’s surprise, he felt Sherlock settle on the floor next to him and timidly wrap his arms around him in a tight hug. John stiffened up at first; he was used to Sherlock invading his personal space, but not in this sentimental manner. He finally relaxed and let Sherlock hold him while he cried, bunching his fists up in Sherlock’s Belstaff and leaving wet spots on his silk shirt.

When John was finally all sobbed out, he pulled back from Sherlock and looked into his best friend’s eyes. The concern was still there, but so was the something else, something he didn’t have the brain power to think about right now. He thought to say thank you or something of the like, but it really didn’t seem adequate. It didn’t matter anyway, when he opened his mouth to speak Sherlock stopped him with a shake of the head and a finger on John’s lips. John nodded as Sherlock stood up, plucked his violin from its resting place in his chair and turned to face the window, effectively dismissing John. John allowed a tiny smile to grace his face, thankful that talking wasn’t necessary at that time. As he stood to the strains of a beautiful sonata, he couldn’t help but think that something had just changed between them, he just didn’t quite know what.

He had gone up to his room then, booting up his laptop so he could drown his sorrows (and Sherlock’s violin playing, much as he liked it, he wasn’t in the mood) with some music. He pulled up a pop hits playlist he had made a couple of years prior. He zoned out while he was unpacking until one particular song started playing. The opening guitar and violin made him pause and his breath caught when the song got to a certain set of lyrics.

“I’m quiet you know,  
You make a first impression.  
I’ve found I’m scared to know I’m always on your mind…”

So it was more like he was always on John’s mind, but that was beside the point. This was it, this song was John and Sherlock. He promptly added it to his playlist that, to hide its true meaning, he had titled “Walking to Work”. He knew if Sherlock happened to find it, he would assume John to be a sentimental fool, pining for the woman of the month, and he would be partially right. John was most definitely pining, but not for a woman. 

John had always assumed Sherlock knew that he fancied him. He thought Sherlock probably also knew it was more than just wanting to get a leg over. He also assumed that since Sherlock never acknowledged it, that the feelings weren’t mutual, and that was fine with John. He was thankful just to be allowed into the crazy, beautiful, brilliant bloody idiot’s life in whatever way that ridiculous arse saw fit. He owed the gorgeous git his life many times over and he wanted time to prove his worthiness. Sherlock is his best friend and he convinced himself that would be enough. The only indulgence in his feelings he allowed himself was this playlist.

After adding that song, he briefly let himself think that what had changed in that moment downstairs, were Sherlock’s feelings towards him. He quickly squashed that thought, mostly out of guilt that he was even entertaining those kinds of thoughts when he should be trying to work through his feeling about what Mary had just done to him. After he finished unpacking, he realized he was completely drained and exhausted and flopped onto his dusty old bed, drifting into a fitful sleep.

As much to John’s chagrin as his pleasure, the next day was just like any other day at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock was his usual annoying genius self, snarky and stroppy and treating John as if nothing had happened. John quickly fell back into their old routine over the following weeks and his thoughts from the day he came back were soon forgotten.

Until today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Walking to Work](https://play.spotify.com/user/1289905550) on Spotify. (You'll have to click it from my profile!)
> 
> [ Walking to Work](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrFsrBunTUUatBpRiBZXYm8_NjbOe_Oyp) on YouTube.
> 
> I didn't specifically name the song that appears on both playlists, but you can obviously look at both and figure it out :)


	4. Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confronts Sherlock about his playlist and reveals they share a song in common. A tiny bit of angst then fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, it's finally done!! Life got crazy and I completely lost my mojo. I knew how I wanted this chapter to go, but I couldn't for the life of me get it down on paper. But then a thing happened and I got some inspiration and TADA! Enjoy!

John was sitting at the desk, laptop open, staring off into space when Sherlock returned to the flat. As Sherlock stepped into the sitting room, removing his Belstaff and scarf, John slowly turned to face him, rather stoic. Sherlock had a confused look on his face, the one that said "you're still here, why are you still here? I thought I fucked up and you would be gone by now". Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but John held up his hand and Sherlock snapped his jaw shut. John did not speak right away. He felt a little bad for that, as he could tell Sherlock thought the worst was about to happen. He could see it play out across Sherlock's face. He was afraid John had figured it out, that he was disgusted, that he was going to leave. In that was of emotion, John could see that if he were to walk away, Sherlock would be devastated, broken beyond repair. It is true, then, John thought. He took a minute to organize his thoughts before he finally spoke. He had to say it just right, this was not something either one of them could afford screwing up.

Sherlock had closed his eyes by this point, not wanting to see the rejection he thought was imminent. John's face softened at the sight. It was now or never, and never was not an option, so John stood up and slowly made his way over to Sherlock. He watched Sherlock's head and shoulders droop, no doubt expecting John to walk past him and out the door. Instead, John stopped about an arms length away and cleared his throat. Sherlock's head shot up, eyes snapping open, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. A wave of affection washed over John and a soft smile graced his face.

"From the very beginning?" John asked, not needing to elaborate because he knew Sherlock would understand what he was asking.

Sherlock cast his eyes back down and nodded ever so slightly. When John didn't say anything right away, Sherlock turned to walk away, unable to take the perceived rejection, but he was stopped by John's hand on his upper arm. He stared at John's hand as it slowly slid down his arm to his own hand. John lifted both their hands until they were palm to palm, gently intertwined their fingers, then clutched their hands to his chest. Now John was the one to cast his eyes down before he spoke, staring at their interlocked fingers.

"I'm no good at this, Sherlock. This feelings thing. Maybe even as bad as you,' John chuckled. "But I'm going to try to get this out without buggering it all up." He felt Sherlock give his hand a tiny squeeze, urging him to continue.

"I lied. That first night at Angelo's, when we were waiting for the killer to show up, I lied. You thought I was hitting on you and I said I wasn't. I was, but you shot me down so efficiently that I let it go, said it was all fine. But I was already completely taken with you, knew that I would do anything to keep you in my life in whatever capacity you would allow, even if it was only as friends. I shot a man that night for that exact reason. I'd known you for all of a day and couldn't bear to think of a world without you in it.

"There were a few times you did or said something that made me question your "married to my work" statement. Some were aimed at me, some not. The some not made me jealous as all hell, but I wasn't brave enough to do anything about the some that were. 

"And then you..." John's voice hitched, a small sob escaping. "...You jumped and my heart, just like your body, shattered on that pavement." John brought his other hand up and hugged their intertwined hands fiercely to his chest, taking a few deep breaths before continuing.

"Sometimes I wonder if you still would have jumped if you knew, or at least told me about the plan. I know you did it," John said quickly, stopping Sherlock before he could launch into his usual speech on the topic. "I don't... I'm not angry about it anymore, I promise, I don't begrudge you anything about it," John paused, trying to calm down. His eyes were threatening to spill over with the tears he never had been able to shed during those two long years.

"But I was broken, thoroughly and completely. There were many times I sat with my gun in my lap alternately convincing myself to end it all and not to end it all.” John paused again for a moment when Sherlock gripped his hand tightly, took a deep breath, then continued.

"I was utterly lost. I didn't function at all for a couple of weeks and only at a fraction of what a person should for another couple of months. I couldn't work, I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. It was miserable, I was miserable. And then Mary came along and I thought that if I couldn't have you, I should at least try to be happy, and Mary did bring a bit of happiness back into my life. 

"When you came back, I was so angry. You left me for two bloody years thinking you were gone, that I would never see you again. I convinced myself that there was no way you cared for me if you were willing to leave me like that and then come back so bloody nonchalant, like it wasn't a big deal. You expected me to just pick up where we left off, faffing about London solving crimes when you I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut. I thought there was no way you could possibly care for me if you could do that. I also convinced myself that I was well and done with any feelings I might have had for you for the same reason. But I was so, so wrong. Short version: me, too. From the very beginning, Sherlock. You had me at ‘Afghanistan or Iraq?’”

John brought their joined hands up and placed a kiss on Sherlock’s knuckles, then tugged on his hand. “Come here,” he said, leading the taller man to his laptop.

“I have a playlist, too. I know you know about it, but did you know it was for you? All the songs that remind me of you, of us.” Sherlock’s eyes grew wider as he shook his head slightly. John pulled up his playlist and pointed to a song.

“You heard me playing this that day, didn’t you?” John asked, turning and placing his hands on Sherlock’s waist. Sherlock closed his eyes as a shiver ran through his body. He nodded then dropped his forehead to lean against John’s. John turned away long enough to click play on the song. Turning back, John noticed a single tear sliding slowly from Sherlock’s eye. He reached up, placing his hand against Sherlock’s cheek, wiping the tear away with is thumb as the first lines of the song filled the flat.

*The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You’re barely waking  
And I’m tangled up in you  
Yeah*

“Look at me, Sherlock,” John whispered.

*I’m open, you’re closed  
Where I follow, you’ll go  
I worry I won’t see your face  
Light up again*

Sherlock opened his eyes and gasped. He could see the truth in John’s eyes, the cerulean pols sparkling back at him.

*Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide*

“Ok?” John asked softly. Sherlock knew that John was not only inquiring about his well-being, but also asking permission. Sherlock brought both his hands up to cradle John’s face, staring into deep into his eyes. He leaned forward a bit, then stopped to give his answer.

“I love you,” he whispered against John’s lips, then closed the distance for a soft, sweet kiss.

*I’m quiet you know  
You make a first impression  
I’ve found I’m scared to know I’m always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometimes  
Event he stars refuse to shine  
Out of the back you fall in time  
I somehow find  
You and I collide*

Hours later, Mrs. Hudson headed up the stairs to see why her boys were playing the same song over and over again. She peeked through the crack in the sitting room door and grinned at the sight in front of her.

*Don’t stop here  
I’ve lost my place  
I’m close behind

Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills your mind  
You finally find  
You and I collide*

Her boys were holding each other, swaying to the music. John’s cheek was lying against Sherlock’s chest, Sherlock’s chin resting on top of John’s head. Mrs. Hudson’s grin got even wider as John raised his head a gave Sherlock a gentle kiss. She quietly headed back down the stairs muttering gleefully, “It’s about bloody time!”

*You finally find  
You and I collide  
You finally find  
You and I  
Collide*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "I love you" trailer is what finally kicked my butt back into gear, because it is exactly how I imagined Sherlock saying I love you in my story, and it made everything click into place. I was going to have more dialogue for Sherlock, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of him only speaking the one line, so I ran with it! Finishing this story is doubly exciting because not only is it finished, it's the first 1000+ word story I've ever finished! Actually, make that triply (is that a word?!) exciting, because it's my first Sherlock fan fic ever and it's finished!! XD Anywho, thanks to all who came on this ride with me, it was fun! Stick around, I have a new playlist started and I think I might do a few little drabbles related to specific songs and make this a collection. :) Lots of love to you all!


End file.
